


Where there’s a will, there’s a way

by Wonderfulworld



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: At least one Bisexual character, Awkward Sexual Tension, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humour, Little bit of angst, Narcissa is a snake, No one knows what they’re doing, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Smut, changing character POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25590643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderfulworld/pseuds/Wonderfulworld
Summary: Narcissa Malfoy was determined to be remembered. If she had to tie her stubborn son, a certain, equally stubborn, Gryffindor and all their friends into a legal battle until one of them finally gave up the ghost then that was what she would do. As Lucius had learnt: When Narcissa has a will, you find a way or you learn to sleep in your study.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley
Comments: 28
Kudos: 76





	1. Narcissa

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably be about 7 or 8 chapters but, honestly, who knows. Hope you like it Xx

Narcissa Malfoy had been dying for 5 years. Exactly six months after the dark lord’s death the ministry had descended on Malfoy Manor and taken anything that could conceivably be considered “cursed, jinxed or in any other way dangerous in the hands of previously dark wizards or witches”. According to the Department of Rehabilitation and Re-education, seemingly made up entirely of Draco’s ex-classmates and their siblings, almost every magical object to be found within the grounds fit this exact description. The most ridiculous to be sanctioned were the grandfather clock, which had neither ticked nor tocked since the early fifties, and a collection of (rather crude) Muggle magazines that Lucius claimed to be keeping in a cabinet in his office for “research” and “safe keeping”. 

Narcissa, unlike the men in her family, found the whole situation rather interesting. It certainly wouldn’t be her first choice of entertainment under normal circumstances but, after six months of Lucius apologising profusely every family meal whilst Draco tried to find a manly way to explain the tear stains on his pillow, Narcissa found it enjoyable in its own right. She was quite happy to sit in the corner of a room with a cup of tea and a pastry, watching as teenagers claiming to be adults tried to write reports about the “dark magic” hidden in her third best tea set. The first and second best sets were wrapped in an invisibility cloak, covered by an undetectable charm and deep in a chest hidden under the stairs in their least favourite French cottage. Even the dark lord (read: especially that violent dimwit) wasn’t permitted to use those as they had been sent away the moment his arrival was rumoured. 

It was on a Tuesday morning, as Narcissa settled down in her recently reupholstered chair (it had been a particularly boring week) and started dropping sugar cubes into a cup, that she noticed something different. The usual team were all queuing beside her small tea table, as they did every morning, to collect their morning teas and coffees. It had taken only a couple of days of careful prodding and guilty looking eyes to convince the poor dears to let her pour them something refreshing before they dove into her family’s personal belongings. On multiple occasions the thought of slipping a colourless and odourless potion into each cup had crossed her mind. The most notable would be the day a fumbling 19 year old had dropped the antique floo powder bowl that was older than the United States of America onto the stone marble floor. Nevertheless, Narcissa realised the disadvantages of drugging an entire Ministry department far out weighed the advantages and had managed to hold off the temptation. Despite the promise to Lucius that she’d “never truly go through with it”, the power trip it gave her was not something she was very willing to give up. 

On this cold Tuesday, a single man wasn’t lined up for a warm beverage and Narcissa squinted at him, even as she finished pouring a black coffee for an exhausted Penelope Clearwater and promised to sit down and hear all about her break up as soon as she was done. If a Malfoy matriarch can’t multitask, she’ll soon struggle with the constant mood swings that came with the heavy handed helping of angst the Malfoy men had been gifted. Penelope, clearly misunderstanding her directions, had moved to stand beside Mrs Malfoy and continue her, somewhat teary, rendition of a speech Narcissa had privately titled  _ The Pompous Weasel.  _

The man waved away the calls of his colleagues and leaned against an empty bookcase with his arms folded, glaring at the ground. 

“And then, Narcissa I couldn’t believe it. He said that  _ I  _ wasn’t ambitious enough for  _ him!  _ Can you believe that?” Two more coffees and three more teas had been served by now and Penelope had moved from weeping softly to rubbing away angry tears. Narcissa gripped the young woman’s hand as she finished serving out the last steaming cup and shook her head. “I know! Exactly! So I told him, very clearly and calmly -you would’ve been proud of me Cissy- I said, Percy, if you don’t appreciate me as the witch I am then I’m afraid we’re just too different.” That did make Narcissa smile and she grinned up at the girl, the turning of her head meaning she missed the murderous glare the anti-social young man was now sending her way. 

“Penelope, dear, I just had a quick question for you.” The curly-haired girl looked down at her and nodded eagerly, taking a large gulp out of her cup. “Who is the new man standing over there?” 

“Oh, he’s a replacement for Boots. His whole family came down with dragon pox overnight, horrible business. I hope he didn’t get it on any of your things before he realised the symptoms.”  _ As if any of their belongings were left. _ Narcissa nodded carefully, turning back and looking at the man with wary eyes. He smiled suddenly and made to walk towards her so Narcissa let go of the Clearwater girl, rubbed her hands along her skirt delicately and adjusted the placement of the teapot, perfectly prepared to cater to his caffeine needs. She looked up again and found him closer than expected and gripping his wand in his hand. Ever the symbol of serenity (her famously emotionless face had got the family through two Wizarding wars), she ignored these signs of danger and opened her mouth to offer him a cup. 

He raised his wand and his eyes shifted black as he murmured something incomprehensible and a bolt of red shot into her chest. The last thing she heard was someone asking Penelope Clearwater to “Please stop crying. One session of tears in a day is more than enough and you’ll damage your skin otherwise.”  _ That sounded suspiciously like her own voice.  _ Then, for the first time since 1965, Narcissa Malfoy née Black lost her perfect posture and slumped back in her chair, realising a little too late that the material chosen for the furniture was too rough and would need a softening charm. 

~

She awoke to brown eyes and for a moment Bella was resurrected and setting fires around the family playroom while the tutor screamed and the sisters all laughed together. Then she blinked and noticed the sweet smile under the eyes; Andromeda. It only took the darkest of Wizarding curses for the Black sisters to reunite. Lucius squeezed at her hand and she turned her neck to face him, watching as behind him Draco was angrily muttering at the ground and pacing. She studied his face, grabbed her older sisters hand and then looked at her husband seriously. 

“I need to make a list.” A small smirk started to form at the corner of his lips and he nodded, pressing a kiss to her hand. 

**Narcissa’s checklist of activities, written from moderately to extremely important.**

  * Apologise to Boots about his dragon pox and have a house elf take the family a basket of freshly baked pain au chocolat 
  * ~~Find and murder the man responsible for all this mess~~
  * Assist Miss Clearwater in writing a formal letter to Percy Weasley in which both his status in society and sexuality are questioned
  * Invite Andromeda over for tea along with her grandson, encourage Draco to play with him before he loses all the social nuances I have spent so many years teaching 
  * Completely revise the traditional Malfoy will and create an elaborate legal document reconnecting Draco and his friends. (Perhaps include Potter’s gang?? See page titled: Last will and testament)
  * Beat Draco in quidditch 
  * Outlive Lucius, he wouldn’t last long with me anyway
  * Revise the Legimens lessons from my teenage years and use it to confirm my suspicions about Draco and the Granger girl 
  * Tell both Malfoy men everyday until I die that I love them, even if emotions make them squirm




	2. Hermione

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took an embarrassingly long time for me to post. Hope you like it. Xx

**2 years after the war**

Hermione Granger had her life set out for her. She had advocated for the option for her year group to return to Hogwarts to complete their education, had scored the highest of them on her N.E.W.Ts and had been offered a place in her dream job. She was talented and smart, somewhat a celebrity within the Wizarding world and already being discussed as a potential Minister of Magic candidate. None of this helped the fact that she was glued to her seat in the most un-Gryffindor show of fear she’d ever had. 

Hermione, much like she was in school, enjoyed a tight schedule. This meant that on a Tuesday morning she had between 7:45 and 8:05 precisely to travel from Grimmauld place to her office at the Ministry. On any other Tuesday, she would’ve grabbed her coffee, tipped the source of her caffeine addiction and walked straight back out of the door to apparate to work. On this particular Tuesday, Hermione smiled at her usual caffeine supplier, tipped him heavily and then turned around and walked directly into Draco Malfoy. He looked tired and didn’t even notice her, walking around her to step up and order his own beverage. 

Hermione was left with the kind of disappointed feeling she always found herself with after their interactions, even before the war, but went to leave all the same. 

“Miss Granger!” Someone was calling her name from the corner of the cafe and it surprised Malfoy more than it surprised her. He turned around quickly, eyes sweeping across the somewhat busy space until he spotted her directly behind him. “Draco. Bring Miss Granger over with you.” Narcissa Malfoy’s voice was calm and measured but still rose above the other chatter of the room. Her hand poked out the top of the heads and waved them over to the corner. Draco recovered his senses, picked up the two drinks he had ordered and nodded in the direction of his mother. 

Twenty minutes later and Hermione’s cup was empty yet every time Narcissa asked her a question she’d stall, raising the empty cup to her lips and attempting to let the last drips fall onto her tongue. Narcissa was friendly in a way that Hermione wouldn’t expect from the sister of her torturer and it was a shocking memory. The wife of a Death Eater seemed completely opposed to the eager woman in front of her. She was completely absorbed in the conversation and had elbowed Draco until he sneakily charmed up a notebook for her. She was now nodding as Hermione listed off her favourite charities and was copying them down quickly into a list. 

“Now you started a charity in Hogwarts didn’t you? Do you accept donations there too?” Draco scoffed a little, the most involved he’d been for the entirety of the conversation. Hermione was shocked into silence and he took the opportunity to address his mother. 

“Hermione’s charity was for freeing house elves, mother. I’m not so sure that’s something you’d want to be involved in.” Draco quirked a smug eyebrow at Hermione and she turned a little pink. 

“Why not? I’ve already freed our house elves.” Narcissa spoke calmly but Draco seemed to choke on air and struggled to breathe for a moment, gaping at his mother. “I don’t tell you everything that happens in my life, dear. I like to keep some excitement.” 

“You freed the house elves?!” Narcissa rolled her eyes at him and sent a playful smile in Hermione’s direction, the Hermione who was currently frozen in awe at the sight of a domestic Malfoy family. “Does dad know?” Narcissa sighed. 

“Lucius knows as much as Lucius needs to.” 

“He’s not going to be happy.” 

“Oh, he has nothing to complain about. They’re still there. Now I’m just paying them. Honestly they hate it more than your father will but…” 

“We should at least give them the option.” Hermione finally spoke up, defending her projects was something she wasn’t willing to stay silent on. 

“Exactly Miss Granger.” Narcissa nodded at her and she felt strangely confident at her support. Hermione now understood the appeal of Slytherin house. Narcissa Malfoy was linked to the Darkest Modern Wizard known to Wizarding Britain, had recently been struck by a notoriously unbreakable curse and yet was ruling over a Muggle coffee shop like a queen on her throne. Draco’s eyes flicked between the smiling Granger and his too-pleased mother and then finally settled on Hermione again. 

“I think Hermione should be getting to work now. Lots of projects to make, people to fix, Ex-Death Eaters to pressure into large donations etc etc.” Hermione’s smile dropped at his words and Narcissa scowled at him. 

“Draco…” Narcissa’s tone was warning. Hermione stood up quickly and pulled her bag onto her shoulder, smiling hesitantly at Narcissa and avoiding Draco’s smug gaze completely. 

“He’s right. I’m going to be late. It was lovely speaking with you though, Mrs Malfoy.” Narcissa stood up to shake her hand and then lent over the table to kiss her on both cheeks. 

“Call me Narcissa.” She smiled at her sweetly and then let go of her hand. “I do hope we didn’t make you late for work.” 

“Of course not.” Hermione was going to be at least ten minutes late. She said her goodbyes, waved hesitantly at Draco and then dropped her cup into the bin. As soon as she left the shop Narcissa turned on Draco. 

“If you ever attempt to embarrass one of my close friends like that again I will give all the family wealth to Mippy and tell your father that I beat you at quidditch.” 

“You’ve never beaten me at quidditch.” Narcissa shook a finger at him. 

“Yet.” Draco rolled his eyes and then started clearing the table. 

“I’ll tell father about the house elves then.” His voice was threatening but his face mischievous and Narcissa laughed. 

“How about a truce? Then neither of us have to talk to Lucius.” 

“Sounds perfect.” 

~ 

Hermione Granger, 

I’m sure you were not expecting my letter but I felt that I should apologise for Draco’s behaviour. He has become increasingly protective these last few months and it’s made him more paranoid and unfriendly than usual. Last week I found him interrogating a family peacock at two o’clock in the morning which he suspected was an animagus back to finish the job. Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise that he didn’t qualify for Auror training. 

I hope that we can still be friends, I’m struggling to find any these days and refuse to lose one because another Malfoy man is on a ridiculous misguided mission. 

Yours, 

Narcissa Malfoy 

~ 

It was only 1 o’clock in the afternoon and Hermione had already handed out coffees and breakfast pastries for everyone in the office; filed three complaints against herself; spent 45 minutes patiently explaining the difference between an elf and a goblin to a half deaf old woman only to find that she didn’t want to help either; signed four copies of Hogwarts, A History; sobbed in a silenced cubicle on the third floor  _ and _ finished two of her colleagues work for the week. At 1:03, when Narcissa’s letter arrived, Hermione was so overwhelmed that she almost scheduled another cry in the toilets before remembering something Penelope Clearwater had said about tears being bad for your pores. Instead she wrote back. 

~ 

Narcissa, 

I spent six years at Hogwarts with your son. I am more than capable of handling him now but I thank you for your quick defence. As much as I would love to join your enjoyment of his ridiculous behaviour I understand his very real fear of losing a parent and so will refrain from any mocking. Although may I point out that there was a rumour around school that he had a phobia of birds. This was only strengthened by what I will politely refer to as  _ The Hippogryff Incident _ . Sorry I’ve gotten off track. 

I would love nothing more than to be your friend and I think that we could make some really good work through charitable events and fundraisers. Please don’t mistake me for using you, I’m just not used to finding someone with the same excitement for projects. 

Let me know when you’re next free and we can schedule a meeting. 

Yours,

Hermione Granger 

~ 

Draco stormed into his parents bedroom, clutching a piece of paper in hand and grinding his teeth. His anger was immediately converted into pure embarrassment as he saw his father, Ex-Death Eater and notoriously terrifying political monster, attempt to fall off the bed gracefully at the sight of his only child. Narcissa was less bothered as she raised an eyebrow at her husband and then sat up in bed and waved over her son. Draco thrust the paper towards her and she took it, chuckling a little as she read through it, before looking back up at him. 

“Is there something you need, dear?” Draco scowled. 

“Why are you gossiping with my ex-classmates?” 

“Why are you going through my mail?” 

“For safety.” Draco said it confidently and Lucius finally regained his dignity, climbing back into the bed and nodding seriously. 

“Draco’s right, Narcissa. How do we know this Granger girl isn’t a Pureblood hating psychopath?” Narcissa scoffed and then looked between her husband and son. 

“She has had multiple opportunities and countless reasons to kill both of you and hasn’t. She’s a powerful ally to be friends with and a lovely girl.” They both grumbled their agreements and Narcissa climbed out of bed on slightly wobbly legs, grabbing Draco’s hand when he offered it. “I’m going to be friends with her no matter what.” Draco grimaced a little as he helped her to her desk and then nodded. 

“I know. I just worry.” Lucius, never one to be left out, spoke up too. 

“You should be more wary though, Cissy.” Narcissa, despite being unable to stand on her own turned her head quickly to flash dangerously angry eyes at Lucius. 

“You should be quieter, Lucius.” They both froze for a moment studying each other and then started laughing. Their giggles and chuckles echoing each other in a way they hadn’t since before the First Wizarding War. It didn’t take long for Draco to join in too, helping her settle into her seat. 

Narcissa and Hermione decided, silently and unanimously, that they would do what they both did best: completely ignore the Malfoy men. For the next 4 years Hermione arrived at 6 o’clock, every Thursday night, spread her new project ideas over a table in the library and researched. Often Narcissa would join her, giving encouraging comments, pledging galleons and offering a range of homemade snacks. The snacks had started controversy (Hermione still wary of the family and their history with house elves) but after catching Lucius covered in flour and swearing at a soufflé that hadn’t risen she quickly accepted any and all baked goods. Although she made sure to learn a spell that silently and efficiently checked for potions and curses. Lucius and Draco quickly learnt that constant humble apologies were not at all welcome and were, in fact, a sure fire way to be hexed in their own house. 

Once a month Narcissa convinced Hermione to join them for dinner and would watch with a smug smile as Draco attempted to appear unbothered whilst watching Hermione debate Muggle and Magical politics with Lucius. Her favourite moment was when he would smile, wide and honest, as Hermione spoke passionately and slammed her hand on the table. Sometimes she’d catch his gaze and almost laugh out loud at his embarrassment. He always made sure to bring news of a new girlfriend the next week but would avoid her smirk as he told her. 

Much remained the same over the years. On each of Hermione’s birthdays Narcissa would practically throw extravagant gifts and donations at her. One notable birthday involved Hermione’s parents visiting for dinner. Both Lucius and Narcissa laughed out loud as Draco showed off his sudden expertise in Muggle Dentistry and Hermione watched him with awe. On Narcissa’s birthdays she would request (for example) very specific books of Muggle importance, an Unbreakable Vow to assist Lucius in the kitchen at least once a year and (perhaps the most intriguing request of them all) a date with Draco. 

“I’m 23, mother. I don’t need you to set me up on dates.” Draco mumbled it into his hands as he lent over the table to cover his blushing face. “Hermione has a serious boyfriend and it’s incredibly inappropriate for you to even ask her.” 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” 

“Hermione hasn’t dated anyone in years.” 

Hermione and Narcissa spoke at the same time and Hermione glared at Narcissa a little accusatory, scowling at her. Lucius laughed into his soup as the women glared across the table until they both turned to him at the same time and said, in identical tones, “Shut up Lucius.” 

Draco stifled his own laugh, less than eager to be the center of attention again but it didn’t work. 

“Now, I know you and Astoria broke up and I’m more than aware that Hermione has been casually hooking up with various International Quidditch Stars for the last few years-“ Hermione turned red, avoided Draco’s wide-eyed shock and hissed a warning “Narcissa!” across the table. 

“- _ But  _ I think the two of you would be brilliant together.” 

Draco and Hermione both looked at each other and then looked immediately back at their food. 

“My healers said I only have a year left.” 

“Mother!” 

“Narcissa!” 

“Cissy!” 

“What? I’m a Slytherin and I’m dying from a dark curse. I’m obviously going to use it to manipulate those around me.” 

She was right. Although no one would acknowledge it. Her healers became more and more nervous at each visit and Narcissa was spending more and more time finishing her will. 

Hermione and Draco  _ did  _ go on a date, squished into a booth of a Muggle Italian restaurant and consistently refused to discuss the incident with anyone. Even under the influence of illegally sourced Veritaserum Draco had knocked himself out instead of answering his mother’s questions on the subject. 

The Granger-Malfoy friendship was considered almost ordinary after the first few years, not understandable but an intriguing show of post-war companionship. When the news of Narcissa’s death finally reached the Wizarding community there wasn’t a soul in sight that wasn’t mourning in their own way. It wasn’t until the Malfoy will went public that the real trouble started

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was thinking about writing a one-shot about the date if anyone was interested? Let me know. Xx


	3. Lucius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, this chapter has some real angst mixed in with domestic fluff and nervous flirting. Xx

Lucius Malfoy was a smart wizard, even when he was making bad decisions he wasn’t doing it rashly. Apparently this particular characteristic was completely lost once his wife died. He had decided, rather stupidly, that if he never had to see her portrait he could pretend she was on a long holiday and he’d never have to hear her shout about him surviving longer than she did. No one was more disappointed than Lucius that he had outlived his wife. The portrait of her that he had commissioned only weeks before her death was to be hung in the second drawing room where they kept old furniture and sometimes banished Draco to if he was being annoying. He waited weeks to pass this information to the Golden Girl. 

Hermione Granger, previously an annoyance to the male family members, was somewhat of a rock in the first week following. Narcissa had spent all but the last three days of her life with the people she loved. When the healers admitted that Narcissa had taken a turn for the worse, Hermione took two weeks off, an unheard of occurrence for the dedicated witch, and was always by Narcissa's side. It was she who wrote out the invitations to Nymphadora, the Greengrass and Parkinson matriarchs and various other friends and associates. She poured out their teas, handed them biscuits and scolded the Malfoy men in the exact way Narcissa had spent four years teaching her. Every time Lucius saw Narcissa in those two weeks she seemed to have lit up. Her slow descent into ill health had distracted him until then from the wonder that a busy Mrs Malfoy could be. 

Each day, Hermione, after flooing in directly from her London flat, would sit by Narcissa and read that day's timetable. The combined organisational skills of the two witches meant that at their most efficient they could meet with five different people with extra time to mock each visitor before the next, reply to any RSVPs and explain to Lucius just how problematic Draco’s most recent romantic conquest was in great detail. They had always been that way but it took their 24/7 dedication to the cause for Lucius to realise just how reliant they had become with each other. 

Never one to openly feel emotions, he was quite disappointed with himself when, watching Hermione and Narcissa openly tease an old Blood Purist friend with tongue in cheek muggle cultural references, he teared up. He excused himself from the room quickly and sat with his back to the wall, crying into his hands. Once he finally calmed and removed his hands from his face he noticed his son, about ten feet down the corridor, leaning his head against the wall, shoulders shaking with his own sobs. Draco finally looked up, wiping his eyes and gulping down air and walked over to sit by his father. 

“You should’ve married her the moment the war ended.” Lucius’s time was a little playful but Draco could sense the seriousness behind his teasing. Draco sighed as he leaned his head back on the wall beside his father. 

“She wouldn’t have me.” Draco chuckled a little as he said it but his eyes were still glazed with tears. 

“She’s too smart for you anyway.” Lucius nudged Draco and they both chuckled a little, nodding as they stared at an empty spot on the wall opposite. 

Narcissa Malfoy’s last three days, after she’d said her goodbyes, “I told you so”s and politely phrased “Fuck you”s, were spent in St Mungos. Even against the paper-thin white sheets and dressed in a shockingly coloured medical gown Narcissa was still thriving despite it all. She sat herself up, drank champagne that Draco had been blackmailed into bringing and made the same joke to every witch and wizard that entered the room. 

“I’d never be caught dead wearing yellow normally but now it seems I will be.” She giggled wildly every time she said it but the reactions had ranged from awkward chuckles to sobbing tears depending on the recipient. 

“Mother, you’re making the healers uncomfortable.” Draco was sitting by his mother’s bed, dressed in his snitch themed pyjamas and slippers, and reading Jane Austen’s  _ Emma  _ to her for the third consecutive time. Hermione had giggled a little absentmindedly that time, staring at one of the moving snitches on Draco’s top from her seat on the other side of Narcissa. She received a playful glare from Draco but had ignored it to take a sip from her own champagne. 

“Keep reading, Draco.” Narcissa poked Draco in the forearm with her right hand, gripping Hermione’s free hand with the other. 

“Listen to your mummy, Draco.” Hermione mocked and Draco quirked an eyebrow at her over the pages when she stuck her tongue out at him. 

“Did you know Jane Austen was a witch?” Draco was well aware of the rise this would get out of Hermione and bite his cheek to stop from laughing out loud at her indignation. 

“I absolutely refuse to listen to you two have this argument again.” Narcissa looked between them with a less than impressed look. She waved a finger at Draco. “Read the book you spoiled brat.” Then she gave Hermione a pointed look. “Stop mocking him, the poor man is very lonely these days.” Hermione laughed as Draco’s face dropped. 

“Greengrass sisters getting you down, Draco?” Hermione raised her eyebrows, her face a very good impression of genuine interest. Draco raised the book in front of his face again and continued his reading. 

“I cannot make speeches, Emma...If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me.” Narcissa sank back into her bed, against the pillows Lucius had insisted he would have brought in from home, and watched Draco read. Her mouth formed into a small smile that quickly turned into a large grin as she saw the desire that suddenly crossed Hermione’s face. “I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.” Hermione was blushing deeply as Draco narrated and turned an impossibly deeper red when she caught Narcissa’s eye. Narcissa raised a single eyebrow and then closed her eyes to listen, happy to leave Hermione to her moment of pining. 

The last three days were filled with those perfect moments. Those minutes where she could imagine Hermione and Draco in a happy relationship, preferably expecting their own blonde, curly haired and grey eyed demons, and she could forget Lucius was ever anything other than a doting husband. The hours bled into each other and Narcissa finally felt at peace, for the first time in her last four years of increasing worries and fears and ticked boxes on a checklist. Lucius kissed her like they were young again and had curled up by her side in the bed, no longer embarrassed by Hermione’s view of domestic moments. Draco sat in a chair opposite, his head at an awkward angle as he snored peacefully with an equally exhausted Hermione beside him, her head resting against his chest and her fingers intertwined with his own. 

She passed peacefully in her sleep that night, a smile on her lips and her hand clutching at Lucius’s. The chaos that she left beside would’ve made her cry with laughter. 

After her death was confirmed and the healers gave their apologies, Lucius left the room silently, walked to the closest window and screamed obscenities out into London. Draco sobbed into Hermione’s shoulder for hours on end, babbling about Regency era books and tea rooms and strong female figures. Hermione didn’t shed a single tear, preferring instead to apparate both men back to their family home, administer Dreamless Sleep potion and tuck them in their beds like children. 

She continued life that way for two weeks. Harry and Ron had convinced themselves that she didn’t sleep, splitting her time between the Ministry, the mourning Malfoys and the preparations for the funeral. Ginny knew differently having caught her swigging down her 19th Pepper-Up potion of the day whilst ordering 

Narcissus Flowers and almost shouting at the flower vendor once she found out they were just Daffodils. 

The funeral was a grand affair. Narcissa had left an exact list of those who should attend but had been convinced by Hermione and Draco that it was incredibly rude to send out invitations to your funeral before you had actually died. Hermione was cutthroat with those guests that didn’t RSVP and rigorously encouraged that the detailed seating plan be kept to. There was a little of Narcissa in each of the items on the list she had been left and she would cherish those moments whilst she had them. She sat between Draco and Lucius, read her assigned section from  _ Jane Eyre  _ confidently, squeezed her fingernails into the palms of her hands as the coffin was lowered into the ground, kissed attendants on the cheeks as they left, patted Lucius on the back each time he passed and left last. It wasn’t until she arrived the next day at the will reading that she broke down. 

“To Hermione Granger, I leave you my entire book collection (a combination of highlights from the Malfoy and Black libraries), my collection of muggle music CDs to be found in the secret cupboard behind the green panel in the dining room, the entire inheritance fund and the baby peacock recently hatched, under the strict instructions that you name him Arnold the Annoying.” The lawyer read it in a cold voice, clipped and strict, offensively opposing the playful drawl that Narcissa would have used. He started to continue to the next name on the list when he heard Draco swear loudly. 

“The entire fucking inheritance?!” The lawyer looked up and was faced with a red faced Draco, a pale, wide eyed Lucius and a sobbing Hermione. She gulped in the air as tears poured down her cheeks. Draco’s brow furrowed as he struggled between reaching for her and swiping the will from the lawyer who he felt, quite frankly, deserved a punch in the face. It was Lucius who ultimately grabbed for Hermione’s hand in an out-of-character show of fatherly affection. She stopped crying for a moment, sent a teary smile his way and then froze. She let go of his hand, stood from her seat and apparated on the spot. 

Sitting on the bathroom floor of Grimmauld place and sobbing into Ginny Potter’s lap she came to a decision. 

“Ginny.” 

“Hermione.” 

“I’m going to give it all back. All the money, I swear it.” Ginny smiled a little as she ran a hand through Hermione’s wilder-than-usual hair. 

“Hermione…” 

“I don’t know why she would do this but I’m not letting her get away with it. I’ll give them back every Galleon.” 

“Alright Hermione.” 

“He’s going to hate me forever.” Ginny chuckled a little and shook her head. 

“He hasn’t hated you in a long time Hermione. If he ever did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Xx


	4. Draco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter but thought this was definitely due an update. xx

**The Date**

Draco Malfoy had, for many years, considered himself to be somewhat of an expert in dating. His mother had raised him with a healthy fear of powerful women and taught him the kind of standards that Pureblood witches would expect during courting. This lifetime of experience and preparation couldn’t prepare him for the reality of dating Hermione Granger. He had arrived, four minutes early outside the front door of her apartment, carrying a small arrangement of daisies casually as if he hadn’t almost made both himself and the store owner cry before finally picking them. Even after knocking he considered burning them before she reached the door, he should’ve checked her allergies, were people allergic to common flowers? Once she answered it was the least of his problems. 

Dressed in muggle joggers, an oversized jumper that was sliding off a pale, bare shoulder and with tears rolling down her cheeks, Hermione Granger had obviously not been expecting a 6’1” wizard dressed in his best three piece suit to be standing on her doormat and brandishing a bouquet of flowers like a muggle magician. It took his hands a second to catch up with his brain before he realised that maybe she  _ was  _ allergic, maybe a previous boyfriend had broken her heart in a very daisy specific way. Or the most realistic option. 

“You forgot didn’t you?” The smile that was already sliding off Draco’s face was lost completely as Hermione froze, her eyes wide, before she reached out to take the flowers. 

“No. I- I just-” She hiccuped out a sob and pressed her face into her hands. 

“I know mother was being pushy but we really don’t have to if you-”

“No it’s not that it’s not that.” She pushed her shoulders back and let out a shaky breath. “It’s Crookshanks.” She broke into more tears, shoulders shaking and Draco almost reached a hand out to comfort her before stopping himself. He wasn’t a particular fan of the beast’s, having once napped on the sofa during an awfully long movie night he’d accompanied his mother to and woken up to find the ginger monster sitting directly on top of his face. He’d been pulling cat hair out of his mouth for a week. Despite this he almost felt like crying too. Hermione Granger cried very little, and usually with frustration. 13 year old Draco would’ve been thrilled to watch as the muggle born wiped her face with the sleeve of her jumper before descending into sobs. 25 year old Draco was less so, finally gripping Hermione by the shoulders and guiding her into her small hallway, closing the door behind them before her muggle neighbours could venture out to discover the commotion. 

“What? What about him?” Hermione was slowing her breathing as Draco, somewhat awkwardly ran a warm hand up and down her arm. 

“I don’t know. I came home from-” She hiccuped. “-work and he was lying on the carpet yowling and crying and writhing around and I don’t know what to do. I can’t take him to a vet because he’s half-” Another hiccup “-Kneazle. I don’t know if he’s eaten something or-” She paused, looking up at Draco with watery eyes and copying as he breathed in deeply, in and out. 

“Ok.” Draco pulled his jacket off, hanging it up on her coat rack before unbuttoning his waistcoat and hanging it up too. “Ok.” Hermione made an odd snorting sound and he turned around to see her giggling around her tears. 

“You’re wearing a waistcoat.” He rolled his eyes with a small smile, as she giggled again, wiping her nose on her sleeve once more and trying to keep back her smile. As he unbuttoned the end of his sleeves and started rolling them up Hermione stopped smiling and looked at him intently. He looked up at her and his eyebrows furrowed for a moment as she seemed to sway back and forth on her heels. 

“Crookshanks?” Draco asked and she perked up, nodding quickly and wrapping her arms around herself as she led him into the living room where Crookshanks was indeed sprawled across the carpet. Hermione’s face screwed up as if she was going to start crying again and Draco retrieved his handkerchief from his trouser pocket, holding it out to her as he bent down beside the animal. 

“What have you tried so far?” Draco turned around to ask as Hermione placed the flowers he’d already forgotten about on the coffee table next to three half finished books. She blew her nose, shaking her head. 

“Nothing yet. I- I don’t know any spells for animals. I didn’t want to make it worse.” Draco nodded as she explained, running a hand through Crookshanks hair before pulling out his wand. 

“Care of Magical Creatures perhaps not the most useful class?” Draco smirks at her and she glares at him, falling onto her sofa with a sigh. Draco casts a few diagnostic spells and Hermione watches with avid attention. “Well, good and bad news Granger. What do you want first?” Hermione sniffles a little. 

“Bad.” 

“Crookshanks has an allergic reaction to something. Possibly magical, but the good news is it’s not extreme.” Draco pulled his tie off and undid his top two buttons. “Do you have any Bubotuber pus? I can whip something together if you want.” Hermione nods quickly, standing up quickly and rushing to open her kitchen cupboards. Within moments she was dropping a makeshift cauldron and basic ingredients by a kneeling Draco. 

Within the hour he had brewed a potion and was dripping it slowly into Crookshanks mouth as Hermione bustled around in the background. As enjoyable as watching Draco make potions was he complained that her attention was more than a little distracting and so she’d spent the better part of three-quarters of an hour trying to find something to occupy herself. 

After Crookshanks let out a small growl, stretched himself out and then immediately attacked a strip of light falling from a street light outside, Hermione and Draco sat side by side on the floor, backs against the sofa. Hermione has successfully burnt some pasta and they chewed on it silently, watching as Crookshanks leapt around the room. 

“Do you think we’ve missed our reservation?” Draco asked, grinding his teeth as he tried to free a particularly solid piece of pasta. Hermione smiled, absentmindedly staring ahead. She turned to look at him and giggled a little until a smile covered his face too. 

“Well I’m certainly sorry to have missed it, waistcoat and all!” Hermione raised an eyebrow at him and he scoffed, pushing his plate of food onto the table behind his head. “Not as upset as poor Cissy, she’ll be heartbroken.” 

Draco laughed at that, tipping his head back into the sofa and turning it to watch Hermione put her own half eaten plate to the side. 

“We can just tell her we went if you like. She never has to know.” Draco said seriously, studying Hermione as she sat back down next to him. 

“Don’t try and cheat me out of a Malfoy date, I was almost excited.” Hermione leant her elbow against the sofa and her eyes flickered over his face. 

“A Malfoy date?” He grinned up at her, raising an eyebrow. 

“You have quite the reputation. Ex-Death Eater or not, rumours spread. The unnecessary height and hair doesn’t hurt either.” Hermione grinned back and Draco feigned surprise. 

“Oh?” 

“Well don’t let it go to your head.” 

“I would never.” Hermione’s gaze dropped to his lips for a moment before looking up at his eyes again. He sucked in a breath quickly and then sat up, looking around for his wand. 

“I should probably leave you and the beast to-“ He choked on his words as Hermione grabbed him by the nape of the neck and pressed her mouth against his hard. He froze for a second before steadying himself on the sofa and pushing his other hand through her curls. He gave them a tug and she gasped, ever the slytherin he slid his tongue past hers at the opportunity. She reciprocated just as fast, pulling him closer to her and running her finger nails along the hairline at his neck. He moaned into her mouth and tried to pull her even closer by the waist, digging his fingers into the soft material of her jumper as she swung one leg over him and straddled him. She kissed him even harder then, pulling back to nip at his lip and then trail kisses down his neck. 

“Granger-” It came out as a moan as she worked her way back up to his jaw. “Granger, I-” She pulled herself closer to him, working her hips over his and he choked. “Granger.  _ Merlin _ .” She ran her hands down his shirt until she reached his belt and he grabbed her wrists, pulling himself back far enough to look her in the eye. “Granger. I’m not sure if- if now is the best time. I mean- I- You were crying-” 

She shifted herself in his lap and ran the tips of her nails up the inside of his wrists. She smiled at him with wide blown pupils and he froze. One hand gripped at his jaw as the other made its way back to his belt. 

“Please Draco.” That almost killed him, her bright eyes and nervous grin, and he dove for her mouth again. His hands joined her own at his belt and he helped her unbuckle it with fumbling fingers before pulling at the knot on her own trousers. She knelt up onto her knees to try and awkwardly pull her joggers and pants down as he watched with admiration in his eyes. She almost smacked him in the face trying to balance herself and he chuckled until she straddled him again and kissed him fiercely. 

“Fuck- shit.” Hermione had pulled him from his trousers and was working her hand up and down his length, kissing right at his throat as he swore. She chuckled and his eyes turned dark as he gripped her thighs suddenly. He slowly ran his fingers up her legs and she moaned as he kissed along her shoulder and up her neck, working a finger inside of her as she gasped. 

“Please- Please- Draco.” He hummed in reply, pulling her towards him by her hips and helping her adjust herself over him. She grabbed his length and sank onto him slowly as he let out a long shaky breath. “Fuck.”

His hips snapped up as she cursed and she snapped her eyes closed, starting to rock against him slowly. 

“Look at me.” 

“Hmmm” She kept her eyes closed, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he stopped, grabbing her hips and holding her down. 

“Look at me.” She opened her eyes suddenly and they locked eyes as he started to guide her, moving her at a slow rhythm matching his hips. “So fucking impatient.” 

She nodded her head and whined a little as his hips stuttered forwards sharply. He kissed her once more, harsh and biting and she murmured against his lips as he sped up their pace. She clenched around him as he worked one hand between them. He could feel himself reaching the end embarrassingly quickly and focused on finishing her first, looking up at her as she panted softly. 

“You’re so- so pretty- fuck. Please, please. Gods your gorgeous. Come for me Granger, you can- do it. Fu-ck.” He was murmuring nonsense under his breath and she leaned in closer to hear it, gasping as he whispered it into her ear and sped up his hand on her clit. He felt her tightening and almost lost it. 

“So impatient. Couldn’t even- couldn’t wait for me to talk you to the fucking restaurant- Gods your tight.” 

“Draco, God” she whispered against his mouth before throwing her head back. She started falling apart then, moaning and panting on top of him, and silencing his own moans with a kiss. His hips stuttered and he gripped her hips hard as he followed her over the edge, distracted by her mouth kissing his at a slow pace as she came down from her own high. 

Crookshanks padded softly across the sofa behind them and Draco watched, exhausted, as Hermione’s eyes opened with almost comical shock. She didn’t move off him, instead shifting closer to click at Crookshanks behind his head. Crookshanks growled at them both before leaping onto the flower bouquet and maliciously slashing at a few petals. At that Hermione leapt off a slightly sensitive Draco, leaving him gasping a little for air at the sudden movement, and pulled Crookshanks off the flowers before passing the writhing monster to him. She pulled on her pants as she picked up the flowers and made her way to the kitchen. Draco attempted to tuck himself back in with one hand, wrestling the beast with the other as he clawed at his forearm. 

“See, back to your murderous self you little bastard.” Draco found the spot behind Crookshanks mane of fur and he stretched out across the sofa purring. Hermione returned from the kitchen with the flowers in a large Winnie the Pooh mug and plopped herself onto the sofa behind Draco’s head, passing him a sip of her glass of water. His eyebrows furrowed when he turned to see the mug and he raised an eyebrow to her in silence. 

“I don’t have a vase. Don’t be a snob.” Hermione took her drink back from him and he rolled his eyes at Crookshanks in a companionable manner. 

~ 

Draco Malfoy woke on the floor of Hermione Granger's living room with five hours sleep, a bursting headache and the biggest smile on his face since Voldemort had been pronounced dead. This was quickly replaced with confusion as he noticed a wide, brightly coloured screen a few feet from his head. He turned to find Hermione, fresh out of the shower and eating cereal with her eyes fixed on the machine. Hermione watched him attempt to free himself from the large knitted blanket covering him and laughed a little. 

“There’s cereal in the second cupboard as you come in and milk in the fridge, I left a bowl on the side for you.” She smiled at him casually and he grinned at how domestic she looked, Crookshanks now happily curled in her lap with her wet curls dripping onto her dressing gown and her legs tucked under her. She nodded her head in the direction of the kitchen just as he caught himself staring and stumbled to stand up. 

“I have work in twenty minutes so-“ Hermione started, pressing a button that turned the machine black. 

“You’re kicking me out.” Draco stuck his head around the kitchen door to grin at her. 

“No.” Hermione brought her bowl over to the sink, carrying Crookshanks in her arms. “You can stay as long as you like, there’s a floo in my bedroom. Just no magic in front of the muggle neighbours.” Draco scratched Crookshanks behind the ears, before shaking his head and starting to eat his cereal. He chewed and swallowed as Hermione watched him intently. 

“I should probably get home anyway. I told mother I’d take her out to the gardens today.” Hermione nodded and let Crookshanks jump down from her arms. “Do you- I can see if we can get a reservation again tonight?” Her face broke into a grin. 

“Really?” He nodded in response. “Ok.” 

“Yeah?” Hermione nodded back and they stood there grinning like idiots as Crookshanks growled at Draco from the floor. “Seven?” Hermione shrugged. “Eight?” Hermione shook her head. “Six? That’s the earliest they open. Unless I throw more Galleons towards them.” 

“Ok. Six.” They both nodded again and Draco kept shovelling cereal in his mouth to give himself something to do. Hermione watched him for a moment, swaying back and forth on the balls of her feet once again and pulling at the knot on her dressing gown with nervous fingers. Draco’s chewing slowed as he watched her. 

“I should probably go.” His voice was loud and obnoxious as he leapt into action, putting his bowl and spoon beside hers in the sink and turning back to her, running a hand through his hair. Her eyes were wide looking up at him and she swallowed heavily. 

“I’ve got to- go to my- to work. Too.” She stepped away from him to the other side of the kitchen and his fingers flexed against his sides. 

“Ok. I’ll see you…”

“Tonight!” 

“Yes. Yes. Alright.” Draco retreated from the kitchen quickly, finding his tie and wand before throwing his jacket and waistcoat over his arm. Hermione stood in the small hallway beside him and looked up at him with a nervous grin just before he left. “Bye Granger.” 

“Bye Draco.” 

~ 

Narcissa and Lucius were sitting in the drawing room, Narcissa staring out the window with her legs crossed one over the other as she drank from a tea cup and Lucius tapping his foot impatiently as he read through the Daily Prophet. Draco walked into the room, froze and walked straight back out. 

“Draco dear” Narcissa’s voice was light and sweet. “Come back in here darling.” Draco sighed from the hallway before walking back in slowly and standing in front of his parents with his back straight and his shoulders straight. Lucius took one look at his son, hair mussed, tie undone and jacket strewn over his arm and snorted behind his newspaper, avoiding eye contact with his wife. 

“We’ve been worried sick.” Narcissa’s voice had taken a slight edge to it now, a suggestion that it was not so much his health but more his behaviour that she was concerned with. “Where have you been?” 

“I had my date with Granger, mother.” Draco stared very intently at a pattern on the wall paper behind his parents, avoiding the steely eye contact of his mother. Lucius let out what could be mistaken for a giggle before coughing loudly and pointedly behind his paper barrier. 

“I refuse to believe that.” Narcissa had placed her teacup on its plate and shot a glare at Lucius before continuing. “I will not believe that, because I was fairly certain that I did not raise a boy who was so idiotic that he would take a woman who we are all aware is  _ much _ too good for him-” 

“Seconded.” Lucius’ voice carried through the paper. 

“-and not even make it to the restaurant.” Narcissa spat the words through gritted teeth, all semblance of dainty politeness gone. “So I ask you again. Where were you?” 

“How could you know about the restaurant?” Draco finally looked at his mother with a mix of fear and awe. Narcissa huffed loudly, arranging their teacups on a tray more violently than usual and clicking her fingers for a houself. “Mother.” Narcissa stood quickly. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to send an apologetic owl to one of my closest friends on my son's behalf for his truly foolish behaviour.” She didn't look at either man as she stormed from the room. Draco made to follow her.

“Leave her a while son. Let her cool off, she’s just upset.” Lucius folded up his paper and put it on the tray beside the half-finished teacups. Draco took his mother’s seat and fell back into it exhausted, tipping his head back with his eyes closed. “I on the other hand am perfectly capable of being furious with you whilst using language you’ll understand.” Draco almost got whiplash sitting up as fast as he did. Lucius leant over the table with murder in his eyes. “If you ever, and I mean ever, so much as suggest the possibility of ruining a close family friends reputation-”

“-reputation, Gods how old are you?” Draco interrupted. 

“-I will personally see to it that you don’t make it through the wards the next morning.” Draco sighed. 

“Her cat was sick.” Lucius snorted once again. “I’m being serious. Why are you- her cat was sick and I was healing him and then I just- fell asleep! We’re going out tonight instead.” Lucius fixed him with a glare and Draco held his gaze, opening his occlumency shields just enough for his father to see a cry Hermione and a squirming Crookshanks. Lucius hummed, skeptical but said nothing. 

“Go tell your mother what you told me.” Draco sat in silence for a second. “Now preferably.” Draco stumbled to stand and practically sprinted from the room. The house elf finally appeared and Lucius passed her the tray carefully. 

“I hope Master Draco is alright. He seems a little stressed.” There was a distant sound of Draco slipping and falling in the corridor outside and the smash of a family heirloom crashing to the ground. 

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Lucius nodded as Draco swore loudly. 

~

It was three minutes past six once they made it to the almost empty restaurant and slid side by side into the booth. They sat in silence, staring at the same spot on their menus and every so often flicking their eyes to the other before shifting in their seat. A waitress came after a little while and was immediately scared off. 

“Did you tell your mother?” Hermione was the first to speak up and Draco coughed loudly into his elbow. His mind went back to mere hours before as, limping from an unfortunate incident with a vase, he practically had to rip a letter out of his dying mother’s hands and destroy it before she could make the entire situation anymore awkward. Draco simply shook his head. Hermione let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god. I wouldn’t have been able to look her in the eye.” Draco smiled a little and dared a look at her. They both chuckled before looking back at their menus quickly. 

Hermione waved the waitress over and she laughed as she explained their slight rudeness. 

“First date nerves. I totally get it.” Hermione nodded quickly, laughing with the woman before ordering for herself and turning to Draco for his own order. He swallowed heavily, looking between Hermione and the waitress, down at his menu and then back to Hermione. She looked at him with concern for a second before looking back at the waitress. 

“And the same for him please. Thank you.” She smiled until the waitress had gone before turning to him quickly. “Are you alright?” She grabbed his hand and checked his temperature, pressing a cool hand to his forehead. “You look pale.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He peeled her hand from his head. “I always look pale.” She laughed a little before tucking a hair behind her ear. “I think I’m in love with you.” 

She stopped laughing immediately and they sat in silence for a moment as she stared at the table and he watched her closely. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. She closed it again and the waitress reappeared, grinning. 

“I forgot to ask about drinks. Can I get you anything? The wine of the day is-”

“Vodka.” Hermione was still staring at the table as she said it, before looking up at the waitress and smiling. “Please. Just, a shot.” Draco couldn’t look at either one of them as he pressed his head against the table. “And the same for him please.” Draco nodded, his forehead still pressed on the cool wood. He waited until he heard her footsteps leaving before he sat up again. 

“I’m sorry.” It was Hermione who said it. Shocking both of them. 

“You don’t have to- we don’t need to talk about it.” Draco sighed into his hands and Hermione nodded. 

“No. I need to say this. I’m sorry Draco. For last night. I- i knew you liked me and you just went through that break up with Tori-” Draco shook his head as Hermione played with the edge of her skirt. 

“Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal.” 

“-and you were just- you were there and we’re friends now and I think I got confused.” Draco’s blood turned cold. 

“You got confused.” He spoke slowly and Hermione nodded. 

“I think, we spend a lot of time together and obviously I love Narcissa and you’ve been really helpful with-” She wasn’t looking at him, eyes darting around the restaurant. 

“-fucking you on your living room floor-” He almost spat it out, tone the coldest it had been around her in years and he felt a superficial sense of pride when her face turned red. 

“-no, I just mean that- I think that just because we-” She swallowed deeply, “-it doesn’t mean that anything needs to happen, we don’t need to- to go on dates or anything… like that.” Her eyes darted to meet his for a second. 

“If that’s what you want.” She nodded again.

“It is. I’m sorry. I think we both got caught up in- all the domestic- friendship stuff” Draco pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes. 

“Jesus Christ Granger.” He turned to look at her for a second, her hair pulled back from her face and her curls tamed for the date, her eyes filled with something not too far from pity as he gulped almost painfully.

“I really am sorry.” She reached a hand out to touch his shoulder and he froze before suddenly moving to stand up. 

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Granger.” He avoided her wide eyes and wished he had something to hold onto so he wouldn’t look so awkward just standing there. 

“I probably won’t- I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to-” 

“Fine.” 

“-just for a little while-” 

“Ok.” He nodded stiffly, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and throwing the notes in there onto the table. “I’ll see you around.” 

“Draco…” He grimaced at that, as she started standing too before he spotted the waitress awkwardly circling their table with drinks and practically ran from the restaurant. 

They didn’t speak for a month and a half. Lucius took to throwing warning signs up around the house when Hermione was visiting so no one had to sit between them in a room as Hermione fought back tears and Draco snarled like a wounded dog. Narcissa pretended to remain unaware of the uncomfortable silence that would fall when they were within the same room, until the  Veritaserum incident and had since gotten desperate. She took to locking them in cupboards and forcing them to sit side by side at the table until they finally looked each other in the eye again. There was still a nervous energy around them both, when Draco laughed too loudly at Hermione’s badly delivered puns or Hermione was caught staring just a little too long but it was as close as they got to normal and Narcissa took what she could get. 

Sitting outside of his lawyer’s office, the image of a sobbing Hermione still burnt into his skull as it battled with his selfish Slytherin nature Draco avoided his father’s gaze and wondered, not for the first time, what the fuck Narcissa had hoped to gain from all this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought and any idea/theories etc. xx


End file.
